


Tattered Feathers

by kijikun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-09
Updated: 2011-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kijikun/pseuds/kijikun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes care of his angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattered Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Betas: sweetsyren and mulder200

The bathroom door is closed again. It wasn’t until he got back with food and found the door closed did it dawn on him just how many times he’s come back from something and found this same scene.

He flexes his fingers on his knees and stares at the door, listening to the muffled sounds of movement over running water.

Dean sometimes isn’t that observant. Oh yeah, when it came to noticing stuff on hunts, he was awesome because otherwise he’d never have made it past his first solo hunt. Dad taught him well. You keep your eyes open and notice shit or you wind up as somethings latest victim.

But on some things...yeah he sucks. Like how it’s taken him a while to notice how long Cas spends holed up in the bathroom. Cas is stealthy at it too. Dean never notices him slip into the bathroom until there’s a shut bathroom door.

Damn stealthy ninja angel. Gets himself recharged by his old man and what does Cas use it for? Well...okay using those awesome angel mojo powers to exorcise demons and bring down things three times his size? Great use of powers there, no question. Dean just thought Cas would use it for more practical things too. Like to mojo their clothes off, mojo up lube, and maybe even clean them up after a good hard fuck with a twist of his angel magic.

But nope, Cas likes doing it the human way.

Dean almost regrets teaching him the human way.

Almost.

He grins to himself remembering how much fun it was. The grin falls as he hears those soft muffled sounds again. He never really paid attention to the sounds before. Cas liked showers, he just thought --

Dean makes a frustrated noise. Shit, he doesn’t know what he thought. He just stuck his head in the sand because things have been...as close to good as Dean’s ever known. Sammy’s safe and happy and whole; just one room away and protected by a freaking Archangel (not that Dean still doesn’t have some issues with Sam hooking up with the thing that killed him over and over again).

He should have known there’d be some catch. He’s just been too chickenshit to open the bathroom door and find out what that catch was. Dean glances over at the food growing rapidly cold. He could pretend he hadn’t noticed, but... He looks at the door again. “It can’t be that bad,” he tells himself and gets to his feet.

When he reaches the bathroom door he half expects to find it locked, but it opens easily when he turns the knob.

Dean’s not sure what he expected but this isn’t it.

The bathroom is steamy, the mirror fogged up. Dean turns his head to the left and sees Cas sitting naked on the edge of the tub. The shower head is angled weirdly and there’s water all over the floor. Cas is....Cas is...

There are two black wings coming from Cas’ back. Dean just stares for a second before he sees what Cas is doing. He’s got his wings curled awkwardly against himself, letting the water hit them as he tries to straighten the feathers.

Cas is trying to groom his wings, Dean realizes, ‘ _trying_ ’ being the big word there. The feathers are in disarray and Dean can spot a few that look ready to fall out. The angel makes a frustrated, pained sound and drops his head.

“Cas,” Dean says softly, like Cas is a wild animal he doesn’t want to startle. Maybe Cas is. Maybe he’s always been and Dean just never noticed, couldn’t see past the human wrapping despite all the things he knows.

There’s a harsh intake of air as Cas’ head snaps up. “Dean!” His wings twitch, hitting the sides of the shower and Cas’ winces. “I didn’t expect you to -- you aren’t supposed to see --”

“Your wings?” Dean finishes. “Cas’ I’ve seen them before.”

Cas’ head drops. “Not like this.”

Dean doesn’t point out that he’d seen Cas’ wings a total of one time. “Cas I’ve had my tongue in _you_ and your worried about me seeing your _wings_ mussed?”

He moves further into the bathroom and sits on the closed toilet lid. He reaches out to soothe down one of the errant feathers because he wants to comfort Cas somehow.

Cas bites his bottom lip and whimpers. “I’ve been trying to groom them on my own but its difficult. There are feathers I can’t reach and the space is too confined.”

“You could have told me. We could have made a detour at a lake or something,” Dean tells him. He straightens and smooths down the feathers he can reach as he talks. Getting the back will be tricky but there’s room behind Cas. “Sam would have made Gabriel help you.”

“No,” Cas says tightly. “I cannot ask Gabriel’s help in this.”

Dean leans in and kisses Cas. He runs his fingers down the top ridge of the left wing, using the water to slick down the feathers there. Cas makes another soft whimper. “Why not?”

Cas flushes. “It would be improper.”

Dean rolls his eyes and starts working on the inside of the wing. Yeah, it’s definitely going to be tough to get at some areas of the wings. They either needed a bigger bathroom or a lake were Cas could stretch his wings out, get them fully wet, and lie in the sun while Dean helped groom them.

“Who helped you before?” Dean asks, carefully not saying before _what_.

Cas doesn’t answer for a moment as he tips his head back. He looks blissed out, like Dean’s giving him the best back massage ever. Yeah, that kinda makes sense.

“Members of my Garrison. Uriel, then Anna,” he finally says. “There wasn’t time to dwell on them after that. They hurt but there were more important --oh-- things.”

Dean gets up then kneels by Cas’ right wing so he can start on the underside of that one. His jeans are getting soaked but they needed to be washed anyways. “And its improper to ask Gabriel because...?”

Cas reaches out and tangles his fingers in Dean’s hair as he works. “Would you wish to tell your father that you couldn’t bathe on your own?”

That bring Dean’s to a full stop. “Wait. What? But...I thought...isn’t God your dad?”

Cas’ hand falls away and he looks away, like he slipped up and said something he shouldn't have. “God is our Father, but some of the younger garrisons we have -- “ He frowns like he can’t think of how to describe it. Dean takes pity on him and starts on the wing again. Cas moans softly before starting to speak. “You would -- call them parents. Two angels whose grace was combined to create a new angel.”

Dean frowns in concentration trying to get the feather’s closer to Cas’ back, but the way the wings are curled because of the space makes it impossible. “So Gabriel is one of those angels? Whose mom then?”

“Nike,” Cas gasps. “Please Dean, we can talk of this later,” his fingers are back in Dean’s hair.

“Tomorrow,” Dean tells him. “We’re stopping at the national park on the way out so we can do this properly.”

Cas’ fingers tighten in his hair as Dean touches the top ridge again. “Dean,” Cas hiccups. “It’s never -- it’s never felt like this.”

Dean gets to his feet again and presses up against Cas. He bends slightly to reach some of the back feathers. “Like what, Cas?”

Strong arms wrap around Dean’s waist and Cas’ buries his face in Dean’s damp shirt. “Like sex, like when your fingers are in me.”

“Shit, Cas,” Dean whispers nuzzling Cas’ hair. He’s been half hard for most of this but shit, talk about a turn on and ego stroke all at the same time. He finds the strip of bare skin between Cas’ wings and strokes.

Cas’ body jolts against Dean. “Dean, Dean,” Cas keens, clutching Dean tight enough to almost hurt. He’s going to have bruises but he doesn't care as Cas shivers as he comes. He trembles against Dean in the aftermath, making soft broken sounds..

“Shh, I’ve got you. That was beautiful, that was amazing, Cas,” Dean tells him stroking Cas’ hair.

Cas shivers again. “Love you,” he gasps out against Dean’s shirt.

Dean pets the dark unruly hair again. “Ditto.”

They stand there for a moment before Cas’ fingers run up the inside of Dean’s legs. “Let me take care of you,” Cas says looking up at Dean with impossibly blue and intent eyes. His fingers are already undoing Dean’s jeans and nuzzling him through his boxers.

“Cas,” is the only word Dean can breathe out.

Later they lay curled and sated across the bed. Cas’ left wing is curled around Dean and the right folded neatly against Cas’ back. Dean can’t stop touching them, though it only draws pleased, half asleep sounds from the angel now.

“Next time I’m going to have you spread out in the sun and do them properly,” Dean says into the shell of Cas’ ear.

Cas mummers something that could be agreement and brushes the mark on Dean’s arm with his wing.


End file.
